


Thank You

by whoisthekingofnewyork



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Fluff, M/M, Male/Male, Multi, Newsies - Freeform, Other, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, newsies (1992) - Freeform, newsies angst, newsies fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 11:45:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15388077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whoisthekingofnewyork/pseuds/whoisthekingofnewyork
Summary: Albert never remembered his birthday so Race decided to surprise him with a gift.





	Thank You

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my tumblr @who-is-the-king-of-new-york

“Come on! You know you want it.” Albert groaned looking at Race, who was standing at the other end of the room with a box of cigarettes, one dangling limply out of his mouth.

“Run out of cigars?” Albert walked over to him slowly, stopping no more than an inch away from him. “Sadly, the only thing I could get my hands on were these.” He briefly held the cigarette in his hand and rested it on the windowsill.

“I’ll find some more don’t worry,”

“At least next time, open the window before you smoke inside.” Albert shoved the window open. “Boots was coughing like he wouldn’t see tomorrow last time.”

“He’s fine now.” He shrugged replacing the cigarette in his mouth.

“Hopefully.” Albert raised an eyebrow before hitting Race on the arm.

“Really?” Albert shrugged, climbing out onto the fire escape and sat down with his legs dangling through the gaps in the railing. He watched the people in the street across from him; the last stragglers of newsboys dragged their feet back to the lodging house, the couples heading out for a night at the theatre, the coppers looming on street corners waiting for the ladies of the night. It was something Albert did to put his mind at ease after a long day of selling. He had only arrived home an hour before, immediately greeted with a bloody Race. Race had yet again ended up in a fight with a particular pair of brothers on his walk home.

“Hey, Al?” Race asked sitting next to him. “Hard day? You’re people-watching again.” When all he received was silence, he continued. “I’m sorry that you had to patch me up again. It was the last thing you needed. Those nitwits were asking for it though. They were looking at a cat the wrong way?”

“Yeah, and I don’t eat meat.” Albert scoffed.

“You know, you could always try my form of relaxing.” Race held his cigarette out to Albert.

“And smell like smoke forever?”

“You already smell like smoke. You spend all your time with me.” Race started pulling it back towards himself.

“Okay, maybe just once.” Albert snatched the cigarette and soon began coughing. “How in the HELL did you convince me to do this?”

Race immediately started laughing while Albert put the cigarette out on the railing and tossed it away with a look of disgust. "I thought you could handle it.”

“Fuck off.”

“You’d miss me.” Race put his arm around Albert.

“About as much as I’d miss the Delanceys.”

“Now that’s not nice.” Race leant back to reach the windowsill. “I got you a birthday present and everything!”

Albert sceptically took the box from Race and set it in his lap. “Is it my birthday?”

Race only nodded as he eagerly watched Albert lift the lid off the box and his eyes light up. The cake was just a simple cupcake, a small swirl of icing on the top. Race managed to get it for half the price because of a bet he had with the baker’s son. When Albert lifted the cupcake out, he saw a note on the bottom of the box. He gently put the cake back after taking the note out.

’HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALBO LOVE, YOUR FAVORITE NEWSBOYS’ There was a small arrow on the bottom of the paper which had the words ’turn over’ neatly written beneath it. Only Race had writing that neat.

_’Al, Happy Birthday. I am pretty damn sure you have forgotten your birthday again this year so I thought I would surprise you. It also doubles as a thank you._

_Thank you for all the nights you’ve spent out on the fire escape with me just talking. Thank you for patching me up after every fight. Thank you for taking care of the little ones. Thank you for being the level-headed one of the pair of us. Thank you for being there to calm me down on the nights I miss home. Thank you for being the best friend I could ever ask for._

_Now, I feel like I have to promise you some things. You constantly take care of me and the others so in return I promise I will take care of you and help you take care of the others. I promise I will try not to get into fights. I promise that I will always be there for you. I promise I will thank Davey for checking my spelling. Your Best Friend, Anthony ‘Racetrack’ Higgins.’_

Albert rests his head in his hands, tears streaming down his face as he looks down at the note in his hands. “You lied.” He whispers. “You tried, Tony. You tried to stick to your promises.” He smiles. He looks at the picture on his desk, the first one the two of them could afford. Race was grinning like a madman. Slowly opening the tattered cardboard box, he places it inside along with the note. Race didn’t know he kept the box after all this time. It was locked in Alberts bottom desk drawer. However, he did know that the pen he gave Albert on his 20th birthday was always kept on the right-hand side of his top left desk drawer. Albert took the pen from it’s assigned spot along with a piece of paper. He twisted the pen around in his hand with a smile before he started writing.

_’Racer, Thank you for being there for me. Thank you for trying to stop fighting. Thank you for trying to always be there. Thank you for putting others first. I’m proud of you. You achieved your goal of owning a bar. We did it together. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s been 10 years since the strike but those brothers still held a grudge. Now I’m on my way to your funeral. Love, Your best friend of 15 years, Al.’_


End file.
